Three Quarts of Milk
by snapslikethis
Summary: "James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell - also, Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions." -Lily Potter, in a letter to Sirius Black. One shot about James and Lily Potter in hiding, takes place two months after they've gotten wind of the prophecy. -JPLE


**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

_"James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell - also, Dumbledore's still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions." -Lily Potter, in a letter to Sirius Black_

"James?" Lily called her husband from the doorway between their kitchen and sitting room.

"Hmmm?" James responded without looking up from the muggle novel he had been reading-for the fourth time, yes, and he didn't understand half of it, yes. Still, it was his favorite part.

"We're out of milk."

He replied again without looking up, "Are you sure? Padfoot just went to the grocer for us on Tuesday. He brought three quarts."

"Quite. We're completely out. I suppose we've been drinking a bit more than usual."

At this, James finally broke away from his book to glance at his wife with an arched eyebrow and a bit of a smirk on his face. She was leaning against the door frame with one hand absentmindedly rubbing her aching back. His eyes flickered to her stomach.

"Alright. I suppose _I've _been drinking a bit more than usual."

"I'll say."

"Hey now. When _you're_ eight months pregnant _you_ can lecture _me_ on milk consumption."

"I wasn't lecturing, love," he placated as he rose from the squashy arm chair he'd been lounging in. He walked over to her, wrapped her in a hug and began rubbing her lower back. She wrapped her own arms around him, as much as she could reach at least, and sighed into his shoulder.

It was only after he'd gotten his kiss that he couldn't help but add, "But really, love, three quarts?"

She hit his shoulder but there was no real conviction in her voice when she called him a prat.

"Must we have milk this absolute moment? It can't wait?"

Of course, James knew the answer. He couldn't help it though-she was so easy to rile up and damn if he didn't love the flush in her cheeks when she responded, rather indignantly, "As you know full well, Mr. Potter, your wife drinks two cups of English morning tea every morning, without fail, with exactly two sugars and exactly-"

"-one and a half teaspoons of milk."

"Exactly. I'll thank you not to rile her up unnecessarily, thank you very much. And I'll remind you that if your very pregnant wife does _not _have her morning tea in that precise way she gets very-" She stopped here and eyed him carefully, daring him to finish the sentence.

James was a brave man, but even he knew his limits. He confirmed, "Love, I'm not going to finish that sentence, but your point is well taken. We must have milk. Now, how to get some. We could owl Wormtail-"

She shook her head and cut him off. "No, we can't. He's on mission at-" Lily flinched, James's jaw tensed and they both paused, unsure what to say now that the one taboo topic between them had been broached.

They were still Order members, of course, in the sense that they went to meetings, but their forced inaction was driving them both ma and all because that damned prophecy had marked them. While they _knew _what they were doing was the safest thing for their family-the only thing they _could _do-it didn't suit either of them well to sit idly by while their friends fought.

The third and fourth weeks had been the hardest-the shock had worn off and they no longer had setting up house and a steady stream of visitors to occupy their time (and, more importantly, their thoughts). It was only then that the permanency of their situation set in. They were both, and rightly so, a mess of emotions-anger and frustration that they couldn't help, boredom and, of course, fear. They didn't talk about these things-it was too large to wrap their heads around; they didn't know where to begin. So they walked around wound tight as coils ready to spring. tiff over a kettle left to boil to long became a row about their situation that escalated into an explosion when they erupted-literally and figuratively-and said all the things hadn't been able to bring themselves to say. In the aftermath their frustrations were channeled into making up-hours upon hours spent in bed releasing their mutual tension and anxiety in caresses and moans and whispered promises.

That volatile cycle became increasingly frequent but too exhausting to maintain. They had in recent weeks devolved into a kind of companionable apathy. They talked about small things, read books, reminisced, danced, read the paper together, worked on the nursery. At night they allowed themselves to talk, to really talk-they went into their back garden-under the cloak, of course-and under the stars dreamt about all the things they would do when the war was over.

In some ways, they had never been closer or happier as it was the first chance they had to be them, just Lily and James without missions and roommates to interfere. The thing that made it hard, of course, was that they _didn't have a choice about it. _It was the missions, really, that were the worst to discuss. By unspoken agreement it was a topic they generally avoided as it was the one that pained them the most.

Lily snapped out of her reverie at the sound of her husband's voice. His brow was furrowed but his voice was even when he responded, "That's right, I forgot."

Desperate to change the topic and seeing an opportunity to bring her plan into action, she made a suggestion. "_You_ could go out and get it. It might do you some good to get out for a bit, even if it's just down to the corner grocer."

"I don't think that I should. It's not safe."

She pressed, "James-you have the cloak. If you use it, you would be perfectly safe."

"You _know _that's not what I meant, love." His sounded exasperated, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away.

She replied in kind. "I know you _know _that's not what I meant, _love_, but _I_ will be fine for a half hour while you go to the grocers."

His voice was quieter when he admitted, "I don't like leaving you two here alone."

It was her turn to be firm. "James, listen. No one knows we're here except for Order members and Dumbledore who is, I'll remind you, the one who helped us find this place. It's been two sodding months and we haven't had anything, anything at all, to suggest that-that _he_ knows. We're as safe as we _can _be."

"It doesn't feel safe enough."

"It isn't, but it's the best we can do. And I must have milk; non-negotiable. A few hours, love. We're talking a few hours. I'll be fine."

"Hours? Since when did it take hours to walk three blocks?"

"Since you apparate to your best friend's house and pay him a visit."

"Lily, getting milk is one thing. But to leave you alone for a rendezvous with Padfoot-"

"Really James?" She stopped, knowing her voice was unreasonably exasperated. She breathed deeply to steady herself and continued on in a much gentler tone. "James, he misses you. I _know _you miss him. It won't-"

"But what if it does?"

"James, I adore you, but sometimes you are a stubborn git who won't do what's best for him."

"You knew that when you married me, love. If I go, and I'm not surrendering just yet, but what would you do all night?"

"Take a bath. Marlene owled me yesterday-I owe her a response. I have things I can do to occupy myself."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Absolutely su-"

"James Potter, I will be perfectly fine for three hours without you. I promise. And I will be safe."

James sighed in resignation, "Alright, then, I'll go. But I'd feel better if you came with me."

This earned him a snort. "I doubt I'd be able to fit under the cloak by myself with this thing, love, let alone the both of us."

He smiled and pulled her into a hug. "That _thing _is our baby. And can you forgive me for being a git? It's just-I worry about you is all."

"I meant my stomach, not the baby inside it, prat. And I know you worry-you have every right to worry." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in close. I between kisses she confessed. "You have no... idea... how grateful I am for you... You're a good husband..." She pulled away and pressed her forehead. "You're going to be a good father."

"I can't even protect you, Lily. Either of you."

"But you do, James-you are now. What do you think all of this is for? I know-" she paused, unsure if she should continue. "I know this isn't easy for you-being cooped up like this."

In that moment he could have put on a brave face, but she was looking at him and she _knew _and there was no point in lying. "It is, sometimes, but that's alright. I know you're exhausted by all of this, too. We're doing the best we can, yeah?"

"Yeah." After a moment, he whispered into her hair, "Lily? You know I love you, right?"

He could feel her smile as she mumbled into his shoulder. "Well, let me think. As that's the third time you've told me today, I wasn't sure."

"Well, there's your fourth time. You're the best-you know that, too?"

"I didn't do anything, love, except drink all the milk."

"That's cute."

Lily didn't like the tone of voice he just used, it was the one he used when he was on the cusp of victory when playing cards or chess. Suspecting the answer, she ventured to ask anyway, "What do you mean?"

He smirked. "Love, you drink milk, but not _that _much milk. You really expect me to believe you drank three quarts in four days?"

He had her and she knew it; she didn't bother feigning innocence. "Damn-I thought it might be a bit suspicious, but it really would do you good to get out-if only to the store. How'd you guess I was lying?"

"I know you as well as you know me, love. You think I don't know your tells when you're trying to pull one over on me?"

Rather than answer, she changed tactics. "Well, what are they then?"

"If you think I'm going to tell you that, love, you're barmy."

"Will you still go and get me milk, even if I dumped what we had down the sink?"

"Yes, I'll go and get your milk. But next time you want me out of the house, just ask, yeah?"

"You know it's not like that. And if I _had_ asked you to go, would you have?"

"It's a little like that Lily-you will thoroughly enjoy a few hours of peace and quiet." She smiled at this. "And no, I wouldn't have agreed. You're right-I'm a stubborn git. You are also right in that I am going a bit crazy. I feel like a right prat for complaining about it, you know. You are wonderful for trying to arrange all this to alleviate my guilt."

"Did it work?"

"Nope."

"Damn. But you'll go anyway?"

"I have to. Do you think I could let you go without milk for your tea in the morning?"

A smug grin crept on Lily's face as she confirmed, "Exactly." At this, she mostly disentangled herself and pulled him into the kitchen.

"It's not fair for you to use my own smirk against me. All the same, thank you."

"I've learned from the best." She pecked his cheek. "I love you, you know."

"I love you, too."

"Will you go visit Padfoot while you're out?"

He sighed. "You went through all the trouble to get me out of the house; I think I ought to give you a few hours of peace and quiet. But only if you are _absolutely _sure-"

"I am. I will be _fine._ Leave your mirror, if you want."

"I will. You think you're so smart."

"I _am_ so smart."

"Yes, and brilliant. Thoughtful. Wonderful. A terrible liar though."

She scowled, or pretended to. "On that happy note, you're running late." She handed him his invisibility cloak.

"Late?"

"Yes, I told Padfoot to expect you at quarter past seven. He's invited Wormtail and Moony-a proper boys' night."

This time, James _was_ utterly shocked. "You really are the best, you know."

"So I've been told. Now shoo."

"I love you. See you in a few hours. Put the wards back up-"

"I will."

"And the mirror is on my nightstand."

"I know."

"James!"

"Love?"

"Don't _love _me, prat."

He wrapped her in another hug and kissed her temple, "I'll be home by ten." Another to her cheek, "Thank you."

"You'd do the same for me. Now go-"

"Kicked out of my own house-"

"The horror. Go."

He laughed at her and threw the cloak around his shoulders in a fluid, well-practiced motion. As he was passing out the door, however, Lily said, "James?"

Distracted in ensuring his feet were covered, he replied without looking up, "Hmmm?"

She crossed the kitchen and kissed his cheek. "Don't forget my milk."

"Yes, love." His face smiled to match hers. He kissed her one last time, threw the cloak over his head, and shut the door behind him.


End file.
